Pillow Talk
by Pinkjimmychoos
Summary: Bill and Karen- pre marriage fluff. One shot.


**Pillow Talk**

**Summary:** Bill and Karen fluff and humour. This is set somewhere near when they first started dating, pre-marriage etc. No plot. I'm forgetting what it feels like to write anything other than fluff- it's getting kind of scary.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. They belong to Fox.

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Later, when they'd both look back on this day, they'd remember it for very different reasons. Bill, because it was the first time he realised that Karen was a naturally sneaky devious woman who was able to manipulate himself (said impressionable male) into always getting what she wanted, and Karen, because really, the first time someone said that they loved you was always imprinted firmly on your mind, wasn't it?

The scene was definitely set for seduction- Bill's apartment (because Karen's place was categorised as a no-go zone due to her insane cat- Bill wouldn't get within fifty feet of that thing- there was _already_ no love lost between them), a delicious home-cooked dinner and candles. Lots of candles. Mainly because there'd been a power outage in LA, but hey, he figured they added to the romantic ambiance. The living room definitely looked more presentable in flickering firelight. Afterward they'd retreated to the sanctity of his bedroom and well, _that _was firmly imprinted on Karen's mind too. That, and what happened afterward. Or rather, _during_.

"You love me?" her voice was triumphant, smug, even as her blue eyes danced with humour as she sank back onto the crisp cotton sheets. Wide-eyed she looked up at him, hardly able to believe that Bill Buchanan, renowned for his control and level-headedness in any kind of governmental crisis, had been so careless to blurt out his feelings like that. Wow, sex really caused him to let his guard down. She'd have to catalogue _that_ for future reference.

A hue of colour rose in his cheeks and he bit his lip as he shrank back a little from her on the sheets and sank defeatedly to the pillow, a good foot of space between them as he mentally chided himself for just blurting _it_ out like that. "I--"

"You looooove me," she announced with a grin, slim little fingers dancing across his bare chest as she snuggled closer to him, shortening the gap between them.

"Karen I--" he sighed embarrassed as he let himself sink into her embrace, it was futile to deny he'd said it. They'd both heard it loud and clear. Hell, he was surprised the neighbours weren't banging on the door and complaining.

"You. Love. Me." Her voice was full of relief, he realised now, and despite his embarrassment, a slow grin spread across his face. She didn't sound angry, far from it. She sounded elated. He ducked his head almost bashfully.

"Yes, I love you," he admitted, a lock of grey hair falling into his handsome face.

She brushed her warm lips to his. "That's good, because I love you, too."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said matter of factly, "what, you didn't know that already?"

He gaped at her, "um… no." What, was he supposed to be a mind-reader or something? They'd only been dating officially for three months after months of dilly-dallying around each other, and here was _him_ thinking he was jumping the gun too quickly. Thank god she felt the same way.

Her eyes sparkled, "see there I was, thinking I was being pretty obvious about it."

He shook his head, a stupid grin tugging on his lips. She loved him.

She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him with a smile as if sensing he needed more reassurance. "Bill," she said softly, "I think I fell for you the day I met you."

He looked down at her, startled. His mind was processing the information. She loved him. "I never knew you liked me right from the start."

She grinned at his bewilderment, "everyone else knew I liked you," she remarked.

"They did?" he asked, baffled. They'd been in the middle of a presidential crisis- _sure _there'd clearly been a spark between them but he'd been otherwise distracted.

"Yes," she said with a roll of her eyes, "I was kind of waiting for _you_ to catch on."

He turned pink, "yeah, it took me long enough to ask you out on an official date," he agreed with a small smile.

"I asked _you_," she pointed out.

"Uh-uh, I distinctly remember saying that we should go out sometime the very first day we met," he insisted, "and YOU said that you wanted to take a rain-check." It was his turn to look triumphant now, "therefore, _I_ asked first."

"But by asking to take a rain-check I therefore negated _your_ offer and placed the ball firmly back in _my_ court," she responded sweetly.

"Oh, so that's how it works," he said with a fond smile.

"How _what_ works?" Karen countered.

"Women's logic," he answered with a good-natured grin.

"Bill," Karen's voice was full of humour, "believe me, you haven't seen nothing yet."

"So what _was_ our first date then?" he asked her with interest, choosing to ignore the subtleties of that remark, "I distinctly remember saying that we should go out and get some Thai food a couple of days after _that_ on the Friday night after work, so we did."

"That wasn't a _date_!" she responded, surprised at his ignorance of the dating concept.

"What was it, then?" he protested, amused.

"That was… Thai food," she replied with a smirk.

"But you _kissed_ me," he pointed out.

"And?" she said playfully.

"Well, that's a date thing to do, right?" his expression turned leering, "especially the _way_ you did it."

She had the grace to blush at this; "it still wasn't a date," she insisted adamantly.

"No?" he remarked. "So you must be thinking of when we rented a movie at your place the next day."

She rolled her eyes, "_that _wasn't a date either."

His mouth fell open a little, "I brought you candy! Jujubes if I remember correctly."

Karen smiled, "well, yes," she explained patiently, "but it still wasn't an official date."

He propped himself up on his elbow. "What would have made it 'official?'" he asked inquisitively.

"The first time just seemed to be more of an 'after work' thing," she said with an enigmatic smile, "and the second time seemed more like you just dropping by to watch a movie with a 'friend.' And the next few times we did that, too."

"Oh," he was clearly thinking hard as he regarded her intently, "well, I just want you to know that I don't make out with _all _my 'friends' on the sofa like that and--"

She swatted him in indignation and he laughed and settled back against the sheets.

"So, you're clearly thinking of the time when you asked me to go to the theatre to see that one-woman show," inwardly he cringed. That play (if it could be called that) had sucked big time. He'd almost fallen asleep. Only the fear of Karen asking him questions about it afterward had forced him to stay awake. "Boy, was _she_ an angry broad. Then we went to the Weiland for dinner. I had the peppered shrimp."

"That's right," Karen said with a pleased smile, glad that the night seemed memorable enough for him to remember the most insignificant little details.

"Your damn cat mauled my pants the second I set foot in your apartment to pick you up," he muttered darkly, "I'm glad the theatre was dim enough to hide the shreds because by the time that fleabag was finished you could damn near see my ankles." Plus, the food he'd eaten that night wasn't as good as _his,_ that was for sure. Particularly the bouillabaisse- it had been kind of watery.

Karen rolled her eyes again, "last of the great romantics." But she was smiling.

"So _that_ was the first real date, huh?" he looked smug all of a sudden.

"_Yes_," Karen said somewhat warily, recognising that look in his eyes.

"Karen," his expression was knowing as he grinned down at her before blowing out the candle on the bedside table and snuggling down to sleep, now secure in the knowledge of her feelings for him, "I never would have figured _you_ to be the sort of girl to sleep with someone on the first date."

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End file.
